Beauty and the Beasts
by theperidot0814
Summary: Justine is a victim of her hysteria, but can the already insane suitors help her?


Beauty and the Beasts

**A/N: Hey guys! Peridot0814 here with a new story! Well, i got inspiration from this after playing through the game, Amnesia: Justine. Scariest shit ever, but still, I thought of a romance horror story kind of thing. **

**Just so you know in advance, I'm planning on either making three separate endings, just like in Amnesia, or have one big ending where what i choose happens.**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Amnesia: Justine.**_

**Also, the suitors are in fact not blind, though they still have their forms of insanity remaining. If I get a comment criticizing my stupidity because "they are blind and can't see!" Then I will, repeat will, report you.**

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><p>My pale, slender fingers lightly traced the jagged edge of the blade I held tenderly in my scarred and cut hands. I held it preciously against me, as if it were my own child. Coiled up in the brick corner of the dead garden in my castle, I watched the snowflakes fall, feeling a twinge of frustration when they disappeared before my very eyes when they hit the ground. The layer of snow was dirty from the filth that was caked on my tattered dress and grime that covered every inch of my skin, blood, not mine, staining my face and skin. I slowly undid the buttons that covered my chest, though there really was no use, hands trembling from the cold and the unstableness I felt knowing that there was no one to stop me from my source of satisfaction.<p>

Father bred me...a monster. A beautiful monster, but every beautiful character has a tragic flaw… I was one who lacked emotion. Father was a cruel man, using me as his lab rat. I was nothing more to him other than his little experiment.

And for that reason, I killed him.

I killed my own father with my own two hands.

But his death made me immune. Immune to emotion. Immune to the concept of hope. Immune to happiness. The only thing I felt was satisfaction, by watching the people around me drip blood, whether it is done by their own hands, or my own.

I suppose that this strange obsession with bloodlust was due to my constant imagination. Was I insane yet? Had I gone completely mad? No, not yet. If I felt that sliver of pleasure, I was still human to some point. I closed my dark eyes, feeling the sting of restless nights punish me as the sharp edge was brought closer to my heart.

This was a test. A test to see if I was still human, still living, still sane at some point, even if this bloodlust that consumed me prevented me from returning feelings of hate, anger, sorrow...I was nothing but a mere shell. I needed to see blood. Now.

Alois wanted me because he loved me. Belise wanted me because he hated me. Malo wanted me because he wanted to eat me.

But it was for these very reasons these stupid men who fell in love with me are now my own experiments. Tell me, _mon__père_, wouldn't you be so proud to see me now? After all, I am following after you. Look, _chercher_, at those stupid boys. Look at how they fell in love with me without knowing the _monstre_ I am, and look at how smart I was to make them my slaves.

_Chercher__, __mon__père__. _Are you proud of me? Are you happy with me? Have you finally been satisfied with me?

"_Etes-vous heureux maintenant?"_ I whispered as I finally brought the cold tip to my bare flesh, laced with multiple scars and goose-bumps from the cold. _Are you happy?_

I held my breath steadily, finally dragging along the dagger down to as far as I could get it, feeling a small spark of glee as I saw fresh red drops bead at the thin opening. The pain was small, and nipped at me just as the cold did, but it felt so good, this feeling of pain. I loved pain. It was merely your_ faiblesse_, your weakness, leaving your body. Of course, pain was eternal. As was insanity, hate, and love.

I asked myself this question every day. What would make me happy?

_Seeing blood, of course._

What would make me sad?

_Nothing. I have nothing to lose._

What would make me insane?

_Living like this for the rest of my life._

My ripe age of seventeen was still the marking of the dawn of my life. What was I to do with it? I was a hysteric, I needed help, but I couldn't help but keep on hurting them…

_Hurting them…_

I dropped the dagger into the snow blanket underneath me, not bothering to hastily button my blouse up once more. A sudden fit of hypnosis took over me as I quickly hiked up my tattered skirts, knowing what I wanted, where it was, and who.

My fragile heart trembled as I fumbled with the door handle, pushing it out and running as fast as I could to see what I truly needed: Blood. And not my own, either. Down the stairs, take a quick right past my portrait, then down another flight of stairs beyond the tapestry by the window.

I was in the mood for some chaotic blood dripping. And, luckily for me, I have the perfect specimens for that.

I closed my eyes once more as I dragged my hardened body down the flight of stairs into the dungeon. The nasty stench of decaying animals, and maybe even people, perfumed the air. I myself have become accustomed to this scent, it was inviting, even seductive if you will. I could hear the sound of hysterical laughter from one end of the dungeon, and the faint but audible muttering of curses hidden underneath the breath of anger. And there, before me, was the sound of rhythmic tapping back and forth with a ball and racquet. Yes, he would submit.

"_Alois."_ I called out, my voice hoarse. I stood before the cell, watching the sickle man keep himself entertained.

The sound of the racquet crashing to the ground was followed by Alois's faint footsteps dragging themselves to the bars of the cell as fast as his stick legs could carry him.

"Justine? Is that you, my love?" Alois asked, his voice cracking. He desperately clung onto the bars, kneeling as I was his master. "Please, _s'il vous plait, _stay with me! I will do anything to make you happy, Justine! Don't leave…"

The way he was desperately in love with me made me want to see his insides even more. It made me feel sicker to the core; I feel that his "affection" for me was the reason why I wanted to see his blood and guts on the floor while I would hang him using his own intestines.

I looked around, finally finding a filth covered dagger on the ground. I picked it up, carelessly throwing it at Alois, watching as it hit him directly in neck, a small pool of blood forming. His trembling hands yanked it out as fast as he could. Blood continued to spurt, Alois using his hand as a tissue to stop the bleeding.

"_Coupez-vous."_ I commanded, taking a seat on the ground as I watched Alois flinch with the words I threw as carelessly I threw the dagger.

"Anything for you, _mon chéri._ Promise me you won't leave me again." Alois made me promise. He took a deep breath as he brought the knife to his own dirty chest, lightly bringing it into his skin.

"_Justine…"_ He hissed as the dagger was brought down to his navel.

I sick smile formed onto my face as I witnessed the blood from his wound drip all over the floor, on his pale feet, everywhere. It didn't bleed slowly and lazily either. It spurted out, the blood droplets becoming a fountain and dripping off of Alois's body.

This was the pleasure that I needed, the pleasure that I needed in order to sleep, to survive. This was my food and my drink, my medicine, my air, my happiness, my comfort, my everything.

"_Justine! I want a little taste of you, next!" _I could hear Malo's insignificant screams pierce through the air. I frowned inwardly. He disturbed me while I was getting my pleasure.

This meant punishment. What would I do…? I could make him vomit until I saw blood? Or even better, until his stomach acid had poked a hole through his lungs! Why, that sounded absolutely delightful! My attention was brought to the insane man, shaking and throwing himself against the bars.

"_Justine!_ Are you leaving me?" Alois asked, hysteric. I shook my head no though my footsteps were a clear indicator of the fact that I was leaving him.

"_Justine! Come back! Please, please don't leave me again!" _ I could hear his screams and pleads as I traveled away from his cell to my new attention. I ignored them anyways, the cries eventually breaking down into sobs. Oh well.

"Malo." I smiled at him, the hammer and shackles behind me printed with his name. I reached over to capture both items and held them behind my back, shielded from Malo's hysterical stare.

Malo looked at me, crazed, as he stared at my bare breast.

"_Bonjour."_ Malo sang-songed his voice cracking octaves as he spoke. How musical. "Come here, Justine, and let me _taste_ _you."_

"You can taste me after you do what I say." I hushed, stepping closer to the cage. Malo's face lightened up, though his eyes were clearly still incapable of seeing reality. He hushed, sitting very still like a good boy before his insane side came out once more.

Like my other two insignificant specimen, Malo was equally, if not a little more, wounded as the others.

"What must I do! What must I do?" He shrieked, banging his head against the bars repetitively until a visible wound mark was created.

With my free hand, I pointed to the shackles that were on the wall. "There. Stand there. You must let me do something first. Then you may bite me as much as you please." I said flatly, lifting a tattered sleeve to provoke him even further.

Malo panted like a dog before he ran back, tripping over decaying bones on the ground before standing like Jesus Christ himself, getting ready to be locked into the shackles hanging onto the wall. I steadied the hammer in my hands, my grip around it tightening.

The last time I did something that required shackling Malo to the wall or a table, he bit a good portion of me. He would have killed me as well, had I not cracked his skull with an available hammer.

This was Malo's little game…he would act like a good boy, do everything that I asked and said, and then he would betray me, trying to get a bite of me.

For this reason, he was my most favorite, and most hated, specimen.

He reminded me too much of my father, and how he used me for his own dark purposes. My sole purpose to him was nothing, even equivalent to a rat. _Vermin._

But at the same time, this was the reason why he was my favorite. His insanity and desire to eat me shockingly interested me, as did Alois's love for me did. Combining the fact that he was insane and he was like my father, he was the ultimate torture victim.

"Are you ready, Malo?" I asked soothingly, slowly undoing the hinge of the door. Malo's breath increased, the boy practically vibrating with excitement.

"_Yes!"_ He screamed, throwing his body against the wall.

"Alright, here I come." I announced, opening the door as slowly as I could. This was part of Malo's game. You see, Malo was a snake.

And just as I predicted, as soon as the creak of the huge metal door sounded, Malo came back running as fast as he could to the door, all traces of insane happiness gone, his eyes glinting a strange yellow light as if he were a rabid dog, a predator, and I was the mere helpless animal, the prey.

Just as soon as he jumped off the little platform, I shut the door as fast as he could precisely at the same moment when Malo threw himself against the bars.

Timing was key.

"ARGH!" Malo shrieked, slamming against the bars once more in frustration. I stepped closer, his reaction of excitement bubbling up as I was close enough for him to grab me.

He reached out, his hands groping the air determinedly as they tried so hard to capture me. I stared at him with no emotion, seeing that he was easily replaceable.

My grip around the hammer tightened as I quickly shackled his wrists to the bars, being mindful of his violent breath across my neck, and finally raised the hammer high above my head.

"_Au revoir." _I said, swinging my arm downward and hitting him precisely in the head.

Malo's body fell limp as it hung by the shackles on the bars, a small moan escaping his mind.

I watched closely at his movements, making sure that he was completely unconscious before I opened the cell door, his body being dragged by the arms like a rag doll before I, myself, un-cuffed him and dragged him to the back, hoisting the top half of his body on me while the rest of it was heaved across the dirty floor. Blood from his head wound began to seep through my skin, finding the stench of his body to be disturbingly gross. I hoisted his body upward, placing my knee against the wall, where his bottom was, while his legs lay out in different directions. One arm up, two arms up, and then cuff the feet.

I stood back, admiring my work. There he was, Malo, hanging limply before me as he was put up once more like Jesus. He looked so ugly, scarred, bruised, cut up, his bones poking out of his skin…it was all quite a disgusting sight.

But I enjoyed it. I circled around his body, poking and prodding, causing more blood to ooze, and open slowly healing wounds, fantasizing possible ways to torture my other victim, Belise...I surely didn't want him to miss out on the fun, did I?

I was truly a _monstre_.

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><p>Well, there's chapter 1 for you! If you like, comment!<p> 


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